Part 77: Optimism

There comes a time in the life of every sour young spinster when the vaporous steam of bile that has served as soul-fuel for so long burns off and gives way to a kind of peace – in the same way that heavy grey clouds sometimes break under the heat of the sun and stream with light. Or how a hangover clears, miraculously, just like that, when only seconds ago you were convinced this time you had absolutely over done it and your liver would explode and you would experience hell immediately. You will find, when it happens to you, that you stop idling away precious leisure hours eating cold, leftover Chinese food and praying for the death of your enemies and start spending your days contemplating just how lovely little bunny rabbits are. And miniature poodle puppies – like alive beanie babies you can love.

As you can probably tell from the above, I’m a bit giddy right now. All the world is beautiful again – and it’s not just the weather or the fact I’ve given up alcohol and caffeine and started wearing make-up. Something has shifted, like, as if the arteries in my heart that used to pump raw hate-sewage straight to my brain got rewired and started pumping out glitter and love instead. It is most remarkable – and has obviously had a transformative effect on how I feel about single life. I can only conclude that the government have panicked upon receiving the news of my recent sobriety and started drugging the tap water.

You see, whereas once I was resolutely and cynically rigid in my commitment to the solitary life I have lately started to experience alarming signals suggesting I might want to mate again. Erotic dreams about ex-colleagues, thrills of lust when I-spy a shirtless manual worker and, alarmingly, the dawning realisation that all men might not be total scumbags (although the current penchant kind men have for sporting beards that look as though they need dusting makes it difficult for that dawn to totally break in my mind).

The only down-side to my new found enthusiasm for life, love and all it has to offer is that it’s put a right downer on the bitter-divorcée personality I’ve been cultivating for most of my adult life. We’ll have to see what we can do about that, because I still have absolutely no desire to be described as ‘nice’ by friends of friends, colleagues or other casual acquaintances. And to be totally frank I still feel fairly disappointed at the blandness whenever I am informed of hook-ups/engagements/pregnancies, so all is not lost.

Life just feels so full of delicious opportunity right now. And I can confirm, having spent many many seconds of the ticking hands of time in the darkness, that the feeling of anticipatory delight currently coursing through my bloodstream definitely trumps the morning-after feeling of the world being full of grey and tedious strangers in fusty beige jumpers. Life is suddenly a great big tempting plateful of sex, money and furry things that would be cute as pets. It’s like an x-rated sweet shop and I’m going to keep giving it my custom until such time as the darkness returns. I can only wish the same for you, dear readers – because, out of nowhere, I am capable of benevolence now. Just like Jesus.